


wake up in your eyes

by kaeg



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e14 The Fair Folk, F/M, jaia, pre-2x14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeg/pseuds/kaeg
Summary: As soon as their lips met, Jace knew he would follow her anywhere, if she asked.(or: jace and maia spent a week together and nobody can tell me otherwise. title from 'fragile world', written by sam hollander, performed by alberto rosende.)





	wake up in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place in the supposed week-long gap between 2x13 and 2x14, because i refuse to believe that it was a continuity error!!

Jace considered everything too quiet as he navigated the streets of New York. When he tried to think, all that came to mind was bassy music, neon lights and soft bed sheets; he remembered his body pressed against rough brick walls, arms pinned above his head, trying to find a reason to stop but coming up short.

Her mouth was warm against his skin, against his lips, but her hands were ice cold, the stark contrast making Jace’s head spin. Her voice was a challenge, hiding both honesty and lies, and it made Jace feel a kind of madness, so much so that replying seemed a useless gesture. He only saw  _ her _ in that moment; all smiles and sarcasm and acquired confidence, somebody Jace could try to level with, but never could. 

The thought of her was as common as the pulse under his skin.

_ Maia. Maia Roberts—  _

‘Don’t think this means anything—’

And Jace tried to convince himself that all of this was just a path leading to a dead end, that things were just getting better before they got worse, but he was a lost cause. As soon as their lips met, Jace knew he would follow her anywhere, if she asked.

They spent a week together, and Jace never noticed time passing. Maia would go to the Hunter’s Moon in the day, and the night would find Jace waiting in the alley, or at the bar, or at the back door. He quietly prepared himself to be turned down each time, asking himself why he thought he deserved her, but soon began to recognise the streets that led to Maia’s apartment, and the way she was able to let down her guard. 

They drank, and laughed, and discovered parts of themselves buried far too deep for anyone to see. It was beautiful and catastrophic, too much and too little, and Jace wondered if he was the only one who felt weak at the knees when they stood inches apart, eyes dancing with infatuation.

Maia had the ability to humiliate Jace with a look, a touch, a word, and he welcomed it like he was a starved man, staring at a mirage. He let Maia set the pace like she was born to, like he was taught to. 

At first the days felt spontaneous, as if their meetings were merely a coincidence, but then a duffel bag of Jace’s clothes found their way into Maia’s wardrobe. Mornings became longer, and nights began long before the sun set. Jace’s work at the Institute mattered less because there was always a beautiful face to see afterwards. Mentions of the Clave made something stir in Maia’s stomach, because she knew that she was slowly unravelling Shadowhunter royalty beneath her fingers. She knew what made Jace tick, and flaunted it; she knew the tone to use and the words to say. Jace met her with just as much passion, and soon it felt as if they were fighting a war neither body intended to win.

Their last night together, truly together, was spent as though their circumstances were normal. Maia smiled like she embodied the sun; Jace could picture it clear as day in his mind, and could imagine kissing her in reply. Instead, he replied with the smile he saved for Maia, filled with honesty and beauty and something nobody had seen before—not Clary, not the countless one-night stands. 

Maia ordered drinks, directed them to a table near the back—and Jace tried so hard to ignore Maia’s hand in the crook of his elbow, but savoured the warmth at the same time—and they sat with their knees touching, chins resting on open palms. They were such helpless parallels of each other, in personality and mannerisms, that neither even realized it.

The parallels of their pasts came later that night. In-depth discussions over beer and shots went from sarcastic and self-deprecating, to honest and supportive. Their minds were screaming, telling them that they were sharing too much, too soon—but they didn’t stop. They kept going until the bar began to empty, until Maia was told to lock up when she was done, until their hands were just moments away from each other on the tabletop, but never touching.

Tipsy on alcohol, yet sober from memories, they faced each other outside the Hunter’s Moon. Maia held the collar of Jace’s shirt between her fingers, and their eyes met. The eagerness from the week before was replaced by a strange longing, shown with teasing words and gentle actions.

Jace smiled something alluring, eyes darting between Maia’s and the ground beneath them. ‘Anything else you want me to know about?’

Maia shook her head, chin tilted up in a cocky gesture. ‘What about you? Any embarrassing hobbies? Childhood stories? First hangover?’

Jace shrugged. ‘I play piano.’

‘Really?’ Maia laughed, raising her eyebrows. ‘Now, are we talking about  _ actual _ piano playing _ ,  _ or do you sit on the keys and call yourself Mozart?’

‘No, real playing.’ Jace grinned, closing his eyes for just a moment. He was acutely aware of Maia’s hand tangled in the fabric of his shirt, and leaned in closer. ‘I can show you sometime, if you want.’

‘I think I’d like that.’ Maia nodded, trying to hide a smile by gently bowing her head. When Jace began to move—always the forward-thinker—she reached up, grabbed at Jace’s shirt with her other hand, and pulled him back into place. ‘But not tonight.’

By some miracle, Jace just nodded, and neither of them moved. They were frozen in time, with too many decisions to make and not enough knowledge of the outcomes. 

‘When can I see you again?’ Jace spoke and his voice was barely a murmur, all underlying sarcasm. ‘‘Cos I have a pretty busy schedule, y’know, being a Herondale and all—’

And then Maia kissed him, convincing herself that it was out of irritation more than anything else. It was brief, but it was familiar; Maia’s hands gripped Jace’s hair just as his slid down to her waist. The first time they kissed it felt desperate, but now it was slow. Control was slipping, and Maia pulled back before their usual routine repeated, but let her hands linger. She needed time and space, and those two things couldn’t involve Jace Herondale.

After a moment of consideration, Maia stepped away, dropping her hands to begin fiddling with her rings. She began to back away, facing Jace with a look that was both teasing and genuine. ‘I’ll, uh…get in touch.’ 

She spun away from him and took a few small steps forward before stopping again, turning her head over her shoulder. Even from where Jace stood, he could see her smirking.

‘By the way? I think you should sharpen up your piano skills. I hear there’s a girl you’ve got to impress.’

And then Maia was walking away, disappearing down the pavement, rings and bracelets shining in the lamplight. Jace grinned to himself before walking the other way.

And if they both looked back and locked eyes before Maia turned the corner, well—he didn’t tell a soul.

The sun was almost up when Jace reached the Institute, and nobody was awake. He moved with quietened steps, feeling like the young boy with fiery passion that he used to be; the same bad memories flooded his mind from years past, but the source of excitement was new, this time. 

After a bit of searching, Jace found himself in front of a grand piano. It was painted black, and early morning light crept through stained glass directly behind it. It sat in a room filled with tradition, pride, and loyalty; everything from the chandelier to the fireplace was considered sacred to most, littered with evidence of the Clave. It was made to be left untouched.

He ran a hand across the rim of the piano, fingers lingering on the lid prop. He sat on the bench, and corrected his posture. His shaking hands hovered over the keys, desperate to play a tune.

Jace lost himself in music and memories; he had a girl to impress, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: [dandymot](http://dandymot.tumblr.com/)


End file.
